Blueberries for Joy...

I bought some blueberry muffins today at the grocery store. I just love blueberry muffins! They make me smile. They also remind me of a boy I got acquainted with while we lived in Lehi. One school year I was hired as a long-term substitute in a fourth grade class while the teacher was on maternity leave. For three months, I was going to be the teacher. It was a great class. I loved all of the kids. Including Bobby and Jared. Bobby and Jared were the so-called 'trouble-makers'; the boys who most people thought didn't have a chance to amount to much of anything. They were dirty; they needed baths. Their learning skills were way below grade level. They were rough and tough; none of the other kids liked them, but they liked each other, and stuck together like glue. I've always had a soft spot for the underdogs and decided from day one that I was somehow going to reach Bobby and Jared. I wanted them to feel special and loved and important; something I was pretty sure wasn't happening at home. On my first day in class I told one fact about myself; each day I was going to share something new. At the end of the week, we would have a review. I figured it was a good way for the class to get to know me. I shared that I had two girls, that I liked old movies, that I wanted to swim with dolphins and that I loved blueberry muffins. For the next three months, I tried to bring Bobby and Jared into the class more; I read Charlotte's Web with them at recess, made sure they got chosen for teams, helped them with their math and spelling, and gave them a little extra motherly advice in the hygiene department. We were becoming fast friends. The other students started to include them more, and their grades began to get better. On the day before my last day in the class, I noticed that Jared had something in his desk that he kept looking at. At the end of class, he shyly made his way up to my desk and handed me a crumpled up napkin. As I opened it up, a tear came to my eye. My heart got stuck in my throat and I couldn't speak. There, in the napkin, was half of a store-bought blueberry muffin. Knowing the circumstances of Jared's family, this was probably one of the first, if any, times they had been able to buy muffins, and he was sharing a portion with me. Such a large sacrifice from such a small boy. I wanted to make a difference in his life, and instead, he made one in mine, reminding me to always appreciate the little things in life, like making new friends and sharing a blueberry muffin. I keep this experience tucked in my heart, and every once in a while, it comes back. Especially when I eat a blueberry muffin. I hope that wherever Jared is, he remembers the lady who loved those muffins, and loved him, too.